With Great Power
by Msynergy
Summary: When dealing with unbridled magic anybody can pay, not just the user, as Emma finds out the hard way. Spoilers for 2x10
1. Part 1

_With Great Power_

Disclaimer: I wish, but no, I don't own the characters/show.

She'd moved fast, but not fast enough. Cora had gotten her mother's heart, had crushed it in front of her very eyes without a second thought, she was too late.

"NO!" she screams, her own heart thundering as she feels it overcome her like a tidal wave. Magic. Pure, raw magic, like an exposed nerve ending.

It lashes out, reacting to her despair, and in a moment Cora is struggling helplessly against its white force. Her fist clenches and the evil witch's neck snaps, but her mother is still dead, Snow White is dead, and she stumbles to her body with a sob.

"No! I'm sorry, please! Come back to me! Please, I just got you back!"

But it's no use, Snow is gone, and she'll have to go through the portal alone. She'll have to tell her father and her son that their wife and grandmother are gone. Gone forever.

Head in her hands she sobs in rage and grief, white lashes of magic whipping violently around her, scarring the earth.

"Emma! Emma please!" she hears it at first as if on the wind, and it has to be some kind of trick, some last torture by that awful witch. But how-

"Please sweetheart, wake up! Come back to us!"

"No! You're lying! This is a trap! I'll snap you in half Cora, just to be sure you're dead, I swear it!" she gets up with a shout, directing her wrath at the place she'd last seen Cora's corpse. But she isn't there, and everything's melting away, even the ground at her feet. What the hell is going on?!

But as she lashes out once more, she hears something that fills her with equal parts elation and dread.

Her mother's shout of her name, and the sound of a body landing hard on the ground.

She's out of bed and blinking before her mind has really caught up, chest heaving as she tries to understand.

They're back, it was all just a dream. A terrible, terrible dream. But what about-

"Oh god!" she gasps, her body freezing in horror as she watches David help Snow off the ground, a good ten feet away from her bed on the couch.

The reality of it all hits, and hits hard as she takes in the last of a familiar glow retreating back into her fingers, the worry and no small amount of fear visible on David's features driving it home.

She'd done this, she'd lashed out through her dream, and she'd hurt Snow in the process, her own mother.

Her mother who woozily leans against her father, blood starting to gush from a head wound.

It's the sight of blood that finally galvanizes her; the bile rising in her throat with the tears in her eyes as she all but leaps from bed and sprints for the bathroom.

Slamming the door shut and locking it behind her, she nearly doesn't make it to the bowl in time, but as she finishes retching she can hear her parents pounding on the door.

"Emma! Are you okay? Talk to us!"

"Emma! Emma, open this door! Please! I'm okay, honestly!"

But when she doesn't answer, another wave of nausea overtaking her, her mother's voice grows desperate.

"Emma! So help me Emma we will break down this door-!"

But then another voice interrupts, and its appearance causes the blood in her veins to freeze.

"Grandpa? Grandma? What's going on? Why is your head all bloody?"

_Oh god, Henry._

He hadn't been sleeping well before and then that whole horrible mess with Regina and Archie had happened, so she'd been so proud of herself for getting him to sleep tonight. And now, not only had she woken him, but she'd hurt his grandmother. What if he's the one in the way next time?

The thought almost makes her sick again, and her eyes blink back tears as she feels the bathroom walls close in around her. The poor kid has already lost so much thanks to magic, she can't, she won't add to the tally. She needs to get out of here, now, before she hurts anyone else she cares about.

Decision made she flushes the toilet, splashes some water on her face, and quickly unlocks the door, flinging it open just as David appears to be preparing himself to put his foot through it. Snow hadn't been bluffing then.

But as said woman tries to reach out for her she sidesteps, diverting her gaze from the hurt expression on her mother's face.

"Mom? You okay?"

The kid says it tentatively, as if he expects her to reject the name, which only makes what she plans to do even harder. She wants to accept it, wants to hug him tight, but if she does she won't be able to let go, and she has to, for his sake. She can't risk being around him until she feels in control again, and right now control is the last thing she's feeling.

Walking over to him she can't stop herself from placing a quick kiss on his head before whispering "I'll be right back," and running for all she's worth. Her shoes and jacket are on in record time and she's out the door before any of her family can react. But she does hear the shocked shouts of her name echo down the hallway, and can't hold back her tears any longer as she tears out of the building.


	2. Part 2

_Part 2_

Disclaimer: I wish, but no, I don't own the characters/show.

Leaving town completely was not an option, but her only goal had been to get out of that apartment, so with that accomplished she has no other game plan.

A year ago it would have been simple, pack up her life, stick it all in her yellow bug and hit the road for the next town. Nothing's simple anymore, she can't leave, she has roots now, parents, a son she loves. But her need to run is still strong, so she wanders aimlessly down the back alleys and byways of Storybrooke, trying to look nonchalant in her striped pajama bottoms and leather boots. Thankfully there's nobody out at this time of night, respectable folk these storybook characters, but that also leaves her with just her thoughts.

She'd used magic on her mother, she'd hurt her, could have severely injured her, and the thought is paralyzing. She can't go back, not tonight, not now, not until she can get a grip on this fear, find control once more. She can still feel it, simmering underneath her skin, crackling in her fingers like static electricity. Taking a deep breath she tries to focus inward, imagining herself cramming all this power inside a box and locking it shut. It does help, her fingers no longer tingle, and she definitely feels more centered, but her fear remains. Because while the magic may be new, the root of her fear is anything but, it's old, twenty-eight years old in fact.

When you got into trouble at your foster parents' house you were sent back, that was how it worked, and she'd gotten into a lot of trouble. It had been such a repeated theme in her life that it had become her lifestyle. Get in trouble; be trouble, you move on. The fear that her family wouldn't want her back now grips her heart with icy fingers. She'd hurt Snow, love her or not wasn't that grounds for immediate dismissal? Deep down she knows better, she knows the lengths her parents have gone to to protect her out of their love, but still that hand won't release its grip so easily.

So she walks, she walks and walks until she finds herself at the police station, her home away from home. Her mind summons up an image of the jail cell inside and her hand reaches for her jacket pocket, thankfully finding her keys. She's inside in a flash, and walks straight into the office and into the cell, plopping down on the cot without a second thought.

She belongs here; at least until she can get her shit together, however long that takes. The way the box inside her mind is starting to rattle and the way her hands are shaking in time tell her that it might be a while, but already she longs to go back, go home to her kid. But Henry has his grandparents, and she promised him she'd be back so time to get to work. So she imagines herself sitting on that damn box, and forces herself to face what happened tonight head on.

She'd hurt Snow through a dream; her unconscious mind had lashed out, and it confirms that what she felt when facing Cora and using that dream catcher was only the tip of the iceberg. She's never cared much about her own potential until now, but now if she didn't care the consequences could be disastrous, tonight had shown her that much. But what to do? It wasn't like there were a lot of reputable magic teachers or masters or whatever in this world, and even fewer who she trusted.

She groans, covering her face with her hands. How could she possibly keep this under control without help?

"Emma?"

She starts, hand reaching for a gun that doesn't exist with her current attire as she shoots up from the cot.

"Whoa, it's okay, it's just me," her mother raises her hands in surrender, whether in jest of her current lack of gun or the very real weapon she carries within her she can't be sure.

"What are you doing here?" she shifts, trying to distance herself at the memory of said weapon. But apparently this fairytale princess isn't willing to take the hint as she slowly walks toward her and into the cell.

"I could ask you the same thing," she points out, reaching with a hand to touch the bars.

Emma shrugs, trying to hide her discomfort at the ease of Snow's manner. She'd just tossed this woman like a rag doll across a room by thought alone, why was she risking herself again?

"Seemed like the right place to be considering what I've done."

Snow's head jerks at that, wide eyes meeting hers.

"Emma-"

"You can't tell me you weren't thinking it," she insists, breaking her gaze to look at where she'd last seen blood flow from the brunette's head, "I hurt you, I'm a freak and a dangerous one at that. Not exactly the darling girl you-"

"Emma!"

In an instant firm hands grip her arms as Snow says her name, forcing her to look at her mother with scared eyes.

"You listen to me, Emma Swan. You are no freak and the danger you pose to yourself scares me more than to others. You're powerful, there's no denying it, and in my experience the greater the power the greater the price. I don't want you paying more than you can give."

She stares at her, incredulous.

"How can you say that?! I gave you a head injury tonight because of a freaking bad dream! David could be next! Hell, Henry could be! Why are you worried about the price I'll pay when this stupid magic can hurt the ones you love?!"

"Because it can hurt you too!"

It's the closest she's come to telling her she loves her. She's seen it in her and Charming's eyes, sure, but she hasn't heard it in so many words until now, as if they were worried about her reaction. And she understands why as it feels like her heart is caught in her throat, leaving her gaping for words. But Snow only smiles tenderly, taking advantage of her speechlessness.

"Your father told you today that you're not in this alone, that we're a family, and I stand by that. What happened tonight wasn't your fault, it was an accident. And if there's anybody to blame it's me, I should have known better than to try and wake you like that considering your gifts. So can you please come home? They were putting on a brave front when I left, but the boys are worried sick."

Home. Family. She really had that now, huh? It's almost too good to be true, after so many years of wandering and searching. Half the time since they've gotten back she still wonders if it's all some crazy wonderful dream. But meeting Snow's gaze she sees only sincerity, and the reality that all is truly forgiven finally pries those icy fingers of fear from her heart. How the hell she got so lucky as to have this second chance she doesn't know, but she'll eagerly take it.

Her mother must see the change in her eyes, because she raises her hand with a smile, a peace offering, and she feels herself smiles a small smile back as she steps to reach for it.

But as she does she feels her knee quake and her strength vanish, as if the self-loathing and guilt that'd been lifted from her shoulders had been all that'd kept her standing to begin with. Just as she's about to become intimately acquainted with the cell's hard floor, however, she feels two strong arms snake around her, holding her upright.

"Emma! Are you okay?" she hears Snow's voice ring out, the woman doing a very bad job of hiding her concern.

"Yeah, just lost my balance for a second there, I'm fine," she assures, moving to stand on her own, but as she does a wave of vertigo hits. And just as she's certain she'll be kissing the floor for a second time those arms are back. One holds her steady as the hand attached to the other grasps one of her own arms and moves it to rest around Snow's shoulders. The other stays on her waist, keeping her against her mother's side for added support.

"Hey! I can walk on my own you, know," she insists, but her vision has yet to stop spinning and she only leans into Snow further, closing her eyes with a groan.

"Oh I'm sure you can, but not right now."

"I'm fine, really, just give me a couple minutes," she tries to persuade her, but when Emma forces her eyes open again her still iffy stomach does flip flops.

"Ugh, never mind, lead on Your Highness, but not too fast," she winces, and Snow's grip tightens.

"This is what I meant when I talked about the price, Emma," she sighs, starting to slowly make her way out of the cell and the station with Emma in tow.

"I'm just tired," she snaps back, eyes barely open in an attempt to fight the dizziness off, trusting Snow not to run her into anything.

"Whatever you say, Princess," she hears her smile.

"Don't make me throw up on you."


	3. Part 3

_Part 3_

Disclaimer: I wish, but no, I don't own the characters/show.

Fortunately, Snow had brought her car with her in her search so the ride home isn't nearly as jarring to her poor constitution. During the walk up to the apartment she's so focused on not blowing chunks, however, that she almost misses Snow kicking the door. But she definitely doesn't miss said door flying open and David's gasp at seeing the state they're in.

"C'mon! We can put her on our bed. God, Snow she looks horrible, do we need to take her to the hospital? What if-"

"'She' is right here, and no I don't," she interrupts with a huff, daring to crack an eye open to look at her father as Snow helps her settle down under the blankets of the soft mattress. Her shoes and jacket are off, and she's braced against pillows with minimal movement before her mother leaves to talk with her husband. It's a testament to how horrible she actually feels that she doesn't put up a lot more fuss about Snow's ministrations, much less the location considering what she knows has happened on this particular bed.

But luckily she doesn't linger on that thought too long, as she closes her eyes for a moment and feels the mattress dip on the side she isn't occupying, her stomach's screwed up enough. A cool, damp washcloth presses against her forehead, and she hadn't noticed how hot she'd been until she feels that rag, and she can't stop her shiver at the contact.

"Oh Emma," she hears Snow sigh, a familiar hand cradling her cheek. At the touch she forces herself to open her eyes again, looking into the concerned green gaze of the brunette.

"It's really not that bad-" she tries to shrug, but her mother's face tells her she isn't buying a word of it.

"Worth a shot," she smirks, causing Snow to crack a small smile, but concern is still the dominant feature on her face.

"So, where's Henry?" she not so subtly changes the subject, feeling herself start to squirm under that steady gaze.

"Upstairs. Charming just managed to get him to lie down again before we showed up. He's getting him for you."

"Good."

"But you really should be rest-"

"Don't push it."

She closes her eyes again, effectively ending the discussion, but she does catch Snow's smirk nonetheless.

"Mom?"

The call has her eyes open again in no time, however, and when her eyes meet his Henry almost vaults the bed to get to her side.

"Henry! Gentle!" Snow tries to scold, only just managing to remove the rag and make room for him, but the boy is deaf to her cry as he crawls across the bed to Emma's side, his mouth a fountain of worried words.

The jostling does make her stomach turn as her world spins again, but she swallows hard and forces herself to focus. Her kid trumps everything, including her feeling like something a dog threw up and ate again.

"I'm okay, kid, really," she finally interrupts his frantic speech, moving her arm to motion him closer and feeling him snuggle against her in an instant. A quick glance at Snow tells her the woman doesn't believe her white lie for a second, but one pleading gaze has her raise her hands in resignation before getting up and leaving the room, only stopping to close the curtain divider behind her. Henry, however, pays no attention to any of this exchange.

"But you left and Grandma was bleeding and then she left and Gramps was trying to act like he wasn't worried and-"

"And I'm sorry for scaring you, Henry," she sighs, straining her brain to try and formulate an answer when she feels like absolute crap. She'd been avoiding this conversation with him for a reason, but the time has come to own up, and she can't be anything but honest with him after what she's put him through tonight.

"It's just- I was having a nightmare, a bad one. Your grandma tried to wake me and she got hurt. I was scared I could hurt you or your Gramps if I stayed in the apartment so that's why I left."

"But how could you have hurt Grandma if you were- Oh."

She knew he was a smart kid, that if she just left that trail of breadcrumbs he'd pick it up. Only this time she wishes she wasn't right.

But as she waits, expecting him to leave her arms, to process this information, because however much she hates the thought of him leaving she knows it's a lot to take in, he only nods and meets her gaze once more.

"You're the Savior, it makes sense that you'd have powers. But if you were having a bad dream then you couldn't control yourself so it was an accident. I know you wouldn't hurt any of us on purpose."

She's pretty sure her jaw is hanging open. The realization that had taken her hours to reach he'd grasped in mere seconds. But she isn't given much time to marvel in that fact as he frowns, taking in her appearance.

"Is this what using magic does to you? Make you sick?"

She honestly can't be sure if it's the magic or the fact that she hasn't been sleeping well since their return (something she won't be admitting to anybody) or a little of both, but she's already worried her poor kid enough.

"Couldn't tell ya, but I'm sure I'll be good as new with some rest."

His look that tells her he thinks otherwise is so similar to his grandmother's that she almost does a double take, but before he can argue the curtain draws back to reveal a certain Prince.

"Okay, kid, interrogation time is up, time for bed."

Charming's tone brooks no argument, but she can also see the worry that still remains in her son's eyes as he hesitates to leave her side.

"Hey," she whispers, waiting for him to face her again before reaching to cradle his chin despite her discomfort, "I'm fine, okay? I'm not going anywhere, at least not tonight, and not without you. And I'm sorry again for scaring you."

His eyes lock with hers, and he must see what he needs there because he nods and leans in for one last hug.

"Night, kid," she quickly returns the embrace, pressing a kiss to his head.

"Night, Mom," he smiles, before crawling off the bed and meeting David at the curtain. The man grips his small shoulder and smiles, watching Henry take off for his own bed before turning to her. And the glow she feels from Henry's "Mom" suddenly seems diminished.

Things hadn't been necessarily awkward between them since getting back, just quiet, as if they were both still unsure what to make of the other unless in direct confrontation. But there's no mistaking the love and concern on his face tonight, his usual reserve gone in light of the night's events.

She's still not quite used to it even on Snow's face and she clears her throat awkwardly, making him snap out of his stare.

"Right, well, your mother will be in momentarily. I'm taking the couch tonight."

She frowns, "Wait a minute, I'm kicking you out of your bed? But-"

"This is the compromise for not taking you to the hospital, Emma. You don't know how close I was to carrying you there kicking and screaming when I saw you two walk in. Snow convinced me that you just need rest, and that she'll stay with you tonight to be sure. Got it?"

She should feel irked by the paternal tone this conversation has taken, as if she's some kid Henry's age to be ordered around, but all she feels is exhaustion and relief. She really isn't alone anymore, and her inner child is downright gleeful at the prospect of being taken care of for a change if she's completely honest with herself.

"Got it," she finally nods, remembering that he's expecting a response, and he nods back.

"Good."

But just as she thinks he's going to leave, he hesitates before walking over to her side, grasping her hand, and quickly saying "I'm glad you're okay," before finally leaving.

She stares after him, unsure of what she's just witnessed, and she must look amazing when Snow slips past the curtain seconds later.

"You believe me now when I say that they were worried sick?"

She nods but frowns as she watches Snow slide back onto the bed and get comfortable.

"He wasn't joking then?"

"Who, Charming? Oh no, I'm watching you for the rest of the night," she states, placing that cool rag back on her forehead without preamble.

A year ago she would have frozen at the touch, at the way Snow, once Mary Margaret, is looking at her now, but that was a year ago. She'd told Henry she'd changed, she just hadn't realized how much until now as she melts under her mother's care.

Tomorrow she will worry about just what all this magic crap means, about what she'll need to do to control it, but for now she focuses on the way Snow has grasped her hand, on the way her thumb rubs soothing circles across it as she finally falls into a dreamless sleep.

_Fin_


End file.
